


Habits

by lightningwaltz



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Eiri and Shuusuke end up huddling for warmth in the middle of nowhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habits

When snow first began to flake down from the sky, Shuusuke wasn’t too concerned. He paid little attention when it dissolved into the salt of the sea, or dampened the beaches. He was too busy scouting the land for humans and all the danger they might present. 

The four of them were being sent to the island in scattered shifts, drifting to the shore in nondescript rafts. A different wave for a different cadet. Haku and Souma would follow after Shuusuke soon enough. Eiri, though, had been here for quite some time. A waiting statue with a gun, whispering his status into a microphone. The sea and the sky were a mass of gray, anathema to anything but the most primeval kinds of life. Other than the foreknowledge of Eiri’s presence, Shuusuke saw no existence of other humans on this spit of land.

Instead, the wind crashed through him, cloudy and indistinct. It scratched dried up leaves across earth and moss. The present mission entailed that he hide and observe, so he concealed himself behind boulders, and he allowed for time and opportunity to make their move. His ears stung from the cold, and he knew they would feel like they were on fire once he went indoors again. Souma once bought him fuzzy, cheap earmuffs as a joke present for some holiday. Probably Valentine’s Day. He’d never have predicted wishing- somewhat, _just a bit_ \- that he’d taken them to a scouting mission.

_Don’t be stupid. They’re bright orange. You would be spotted for sure._

This island was changing, too. Minute by minute, the snow began to adhere to leaves and dirt. It became a thin white sheet on the ground, thickening into a blanket, caking Shuusuke’s hiding spot. The shock of cold and disbelief made it feel as though he had swallowed pins and shattered glass.

A set of clicks and beeps played into his concealed headphones. 

_Call your commander._ Shuusuke did as requested, even though he suspected the results would not please him. 

“Shiba. You’re alive.” Ichijima made it sound like another data point for the mission. The cadet lived and breathed, and so they still had some use. “Our intelligence was bad. The island is deserted after all. If this was a hiding place for northern spies, they appear to have moved on.” 

_Yes. Clearly._ Shuusuke knew that Souma might have said this with words. Shuusuke also knew that, nowadays, Souma is more likely to express this through an inelegant (yet strangely charming) snort. His messiah was learning to pick his battles.

Shuusuke’s own nature rebelled at performing similar infractions. But, since Ichijima couldn’t see him, he allowed himself to kneel down, and keep his free hand shoved down into his pockets. No need to stand at attention here. No need to endanger his limbs, either. 

Mistakes were a part of the job. Information morphed on the tide of innuendos and deliberately falsified rumors. At a minimum, they now had better information about an island that was not in use by the enemy. It might be good to come back, chart the place, and transform it into a location of strategic merit. 

At a later date.

“We’ll wait by the beach for the rescue, then,” Shuusuke said, waiting for approval to disconnect the call.

“Ah yes. About that, Shiba.” Ichijima’s words also sounded trapped in a snow storm, buffeted around by static and weird, watery distance. Shuusuke never liked hearing his last name in that tone of voice, even if it was currently washed out, diminished. “We will not be retrieving you two tonight.” 

Shuusuke had no response to that. The wind shrieked for him, and he hoped it hurt Ichijima’s eardrums. 

And then, after assessing; “is it because it would be too dangerous?” 

“Yes. Neither a boat nor a helicopter could make the trip. Weather reports indicate that travel will be safe again around 6 a.m.” 

“I see.” Shuusuke’s feet felt like an empty, cold space. And his internal clock informed him that he needed to make it through approximately twelve more hours. “We could die. Do you realize this?” 

Perhaps Souma had had an influence on Shuusuke after all. 

“Do you plan to die?” 

_Not if I can help it._ “No.”

“Shiba, any rescue team we sent could die, too. And then you would really be in danger.” Ichijima’s voice grew more and more faint. Just now, he was doing a good impression of a teacher who kept hearing the wrong answers from his pupils. “At least no one will be trying to shoot you tonight.” 

“Yes.” Shuusuke had to admit that Ichijima was correct. Geological patterns had no ideology. You couldn’t reason with them or fight with them (though it was possible that Eiri might attempt the latter.) Alarm crackled through his body even more so than the cold. “That is true.”

“One more thing.” Now Ichijima sounded like a man trapped under the ice, drifting away. Somehow this fit his general demeanor much more than the walls of Sakura. “I am unable to contact Eiri. He’s probably at higher altitudes, which means he’s in an even colder environment. That might have had had a harmful effect on his equipment.”

The boulder was still at Shuusuke’s back. He thought about turning around, mashing his face up against it, and burying a frustrated scream into snow and stone. But if he did that, his lips or tongue might freeze up against it, and that would be a truly embarrassing reason to fail in his duties. 

“I will sign off, then. I need to locate Eiri.”

“Good evening, Shiba.” 

The call terminated right after that, and the emptiness in his radio somehow dwarfed the unruly wind.

_Good night and good luck_ , Shuusuke thought, rummaging up some long-forgotten English. 

Calling Eiri yielded nothing but an ominous sequence of beeps. He tried two more times, always arriving at the same result. He sat back on his heels, and glared into the horizon. There was nothing out there. Nothing, nothing at all. No islands, no smattering of seagulls, nothing. Shuusuke found himself pondering what would happen if someone tried to swim away from this beach, in these current conditions. Most likely, being fully immersed in the water would shock one’s heart into wretched stillness. And if that didn’t happen, paddling at the strong waves would exhaust someone into unconsciousness. 

He swore several times, each time in a different language. Initially he cursed his circumstances. Then, utterly disgusted with himself, he cursed his own delay. 

Shuusuke crossed his arms, trying to generate heat. He knew exactly what would be happening, all those miles away. Haku and Souma were probably being told the situation right now, if they hadn’t been already. His messiah would worry about him for sure. But he would also look over at a pale and wordless Haku, and anger would strike like a lightning bolt. Not for the first time, Shuusuke allowed Souma’s emotions in (or his best approximation of them.) He let them in, until they seemed as essential as his nervous system. It warmed him like a strange kind of campfire. It reminded him that helping Eiri out right now would help Haku. Which, in turn, would help Souma. 

He stood up, making sure he had gathered his equipment. Finding Eiri was going to be difficult, especially since he would be not be expecting a rendezvous. Shuusuke turned his back on the ocean, and let his gaze travel up, and up the mountain. As a sniper, Eiri would have sought higher ground. Ichijima was bound to be correct about that. However, Eiri would not be a successful sniper if he had made a trend of being easily located. This impromptu task would be one of Shuusuke’s more difficult endeavors in recent memory.

Still, regularly participating in life-and-death missions meant internalizing someone’s unconscious behaviors and customs. The Sakura rules were designed to discourage familiarity but concrete rules tended to give way to lived experience. Even Shuusuke could admit this. And so he could make educated guesses about Eiri’s current location. He had to be perched on one of the highest peaks, like a falcon waiting for prey that would never come. 

There were very few options, actually, even though each possibility was so remote it made his ears pop. 

After that, there was nothing left but the climb. 

For a while, it reminded him of hamsters on the wheel. He placed one foot in front of the other, and the top of the mountain remained as distant as ever. Shuusuke noticed dampness inside his boots and could not understand it. They were designed to withstand snow and rain. Fear of his difficult situation must have made him break out in a nervous sweat. If anyone flew over the island with an infrared sensor, he would be an unconscionably bright spot in a sea of crackling blue. He hoped his clothes would not freeze to his body.

There were so many ways to die outside, even on undemanding, sunny days. His mind drifted to certain cases from his previous life. There had been several times in which he’d had to listen to pathologists called as witnesses. They’d presented their findings on whether a victim had been murdered by the weather or by a person. This could be difficult to determine, particular when bones were all that remained.

Grim thoughts for a grim situation, but it made him lose track of the fire in his diaphragm, and the jagged rocks trying to tear his shoes to shreds. When he ascended to the first plateau it took him a moment to realize why the ground had leveled out. 

Up here, things were no less colorless and severe, and the wind hadn’t stopped its rampage. His forehead was still slick with precipitation and perspiration. Shuusuke still found himself captivated by the rambling view, like he was a hiker on an undemanding daytrip. He thought about how nice this weather would be, if he were in bed, the windows shut, and the blinds pulled up. It would be ideal for a peaceful afternoon with a good book.

It was, in fact, his first moment of true solitude since being taken by Sakura. 

In the early days after Sakai’s death, he might have welcomed a situation like this. He had some e-books stashed in his mission phone. Shuusuke would have opened up to one of them, sat down in the snow, and read until either he or his battery gave way. He would have taken comfort knowing that he died as himself, at least. Died doing something he enjoyed, died doing something that hurt no one at all. 

He brushed that thought away the same way he brushed snow off of his coat. Time altered people as well as landscapes. In the intervening months he had gained Souma. He had gained Souma’s two friends, even if those friendships were a bit illicit. 

So he kept moving until he came near the highest of heights. He kept exploring, until human movement flickered in his eyes. 

“Don’t move.” The words cascaded down from one of the peaks, arrogant and cold in a way that had nothing to do with the weather. 

“Eiri, it’s just me. It’s Shuusuke.” Shuusuke had gone days without speaking, before, but somehow his own voice surprised him after these scant hours of silence.

“Oh, that’s-” There he was. Eiri in his relieved state. Then he gathered himself. “Give me your password.” 

_Can’t we forego that for once?_ The force of exhausted longing was another shock to Shuusuke. But, no, this was a good thing. Eiri was just being professional, responsible. Haku wasn’t the only person out there with the ability to make lifelike masks. 

Shuusuke rattled off the series of seemingly meaningless numbers that comprised his passcode. It was actually Souma’s birthdate in reverse, but no one knew that. 

(Not even his messiah, apparently. Whenever Shuusuke said it, Souma cocked his head like he was hearing a tune he couldn’t quite place. Shuusuke was probably in for a world of teasing if Souma ever figured out his chosen passcode.) 

Once satisfied, Eiri leaned over the ridge, and his face became much more visible. He didn’t appear to be in danger of succumbing to hypothermia, but Shuusuke also knew it took an act of God to make Eiri admit to weakness.

“Why are you here?” Eiri asked, and then his face became a bit pale. Probably not due to weather, either. “Not that it’s bad to see you but… I mean, we’re supposed to be hiding. What if someone is listening in?” 

Shuusuke thought of Eiri’s broken communication device. He almost laughed.

“Trust me, there’s no one around to overhear.”

*

After learning the basics of their current situation, Eiri clambered down from his redundant hiding spot. He ended up scuffing across a patch of ice. Shuusuke had to catch him by the forearms, and hold him upright. This indignity was just one pebble in Eiri’s pile of frustrations. It made something within him topple over, stubbing and bruising all his other thoughts. 

Eiri had been mentally prepared for hours- maybe days- of sniper responsibilities. Even if he had been an articulate person, he was pretty sure he could never explain the mindset to anyone. The emptiness that went beyond silence. The hours that accumulated like this snowfall. The way his gun became like an additional limb.

How to convey the absolute focus on his target? How to convey how it made him forget his friends, forget himself, forget why this person was his enemy? 

Having this this kind of serenity interrupted was like having a frozen-over lake crumble beneath his feet. It was the icy fall that came after. 

And when Shuusuke had popped up over the horizon, Eiri had had him in his crosshairs. Yes, his finger had not been on the trigger. But he only had to look at Shuusuke’s face to remember the red bars intersecting his companion’s forehead. 

“Shuusuke, you should have called me. I could have shot you.” 

A blank stare over a reddened nose and foggy glasses. “Eiri, I already told you that your communication system is broken.”

Oh. Right. He had made note of that a few hours ago, and Shuusuke had confirmed it. But all of his complaints were orbiting his head like a meteor shower. Present, but just out of reach. Impossible to organize. There and gone before they were properly named.

“They should have given us flares or something to signal to each other.” 

“Or something.” When Shuusuke said this, he huffed a little, probably towards Ichijima’s general direction. And thus he ended up sounding like Souma. The two of them were idiosyncratically distinct people, but they had begun to borrow each other’s small habits. Eiri wondered if Shuusuke was even aware of doing it.

And then Eiri wondered if he had been doing the same thing. He wondered if others saw Haku’s expressions on Eiri’s face. He wondered if he was more prone to labeling things as being ‘nice.’ Perhaps in a few weeks he would start having an insatiable craving for juice boxes.

_Yeah, no way._

“Okay, but my point is; I could have _killed_ you.” Eiri knew exactly what it would look like if he’d shot Shuusuke. What would happen to his face, how red the snow would become. 

“I’m wearing a bullet-proof vest, Eiri.” Shuusuke’s teeth clattered together.

“You’re not wearing it on your _head_.” His foot wanted to rise up and slam down, but it was partially buried in the snow, and that slowed his momentum. His words echoed across the hills, like three additional Eiris were shouting back at them. 

“Yelling can cause avalanches,” Shuusuke said, after a few moments. 

“I know that,” Eiri said, kind of wishing a landslide would bury him at this point. At the very least he would be warmer. “I know a lot about weather, okay?” 

As a kid, learning about meteorological patterns was corollary to his interest in the stars. It was difficult to study constellations when it was overcast, after all. Today, landing on the island, he’d looked at the sky and remembered a long-ago book. He remembered that these exact clouds tended to indicate future snow. His scars had begun itching, as they so often did in response to atmospheric changes. It had been more than a little surreal, actually, the way his old knowledge acted in concert with his recent wounds.

He had warred with himself then, debating whether to contact Ichijima with his concerns. Eiri had scrapped the idea, because he had no empirical data that would move his superior. He just couldn’t see Ichijima being impressed with hazy childhood memories and aching skin.

His hesitation had led them to this. Right in front of Eiri, Shuusuke was a mess of suppressed shivering and wind-savaged hair. He looked like a man who should have been inside long ago. If Eiri _had_ spoken up, maybe neither of them would be in this state. 

Worst of all, he knew what Haku probably looked like right now. He would be a shuttered house, with all its windows boarded up. In short, he would blend into Sakura’s headquarters. There were no windows in any of the private rooms. No ability to look for the stars at all.

Forget sinking into the earth. Eiri wanted nothing more than to kick something. Preferably himself. 

“Hey, Shuusuke?” _Thank you for finding me. Thank you for not tearing me to shreds for bitching at you when you did find me. Thank you._ “There’s a cave nearby. We should go hang out in it.” 

“Brilliant idea. Let’s go.”

Eiri reflected on the strange power of praise from Shuusuke. He never experienced this with anyone else from Sakura. Haku was… himself, and Souma was the most fun to be around. But Shuusuke’s compliments often made Eiri want to do stupid things, such as skipping or whistling a jaunty tune. Currently, it was keeping some of the guilt at bay.

He somehow maintained his dignity all the way until the cave. They inspected it for signs of a bear, and Eiri admired how Shuusuke remained composed even though he clearly wanted to rush into shelter. 

Once they were sheltered from the storm, it was as though the cold caught up to Eiri. His jaw ached, and he realized his own molars had been banging around all this time. Coordination was difficult; he bumped his shoulder against the damp wall. He yelped, remembering his own discipline a second later. 

“Eiri, your lips are kind of blue.” Shuusuke looked up, as he pulled off his boots. Eiri was perplexed until he saw the socks. Ah yes. They did look a bit soaked. It wouldn’t be good to keep them on. 

He felt his own face. Even though his gloves, he was aware that it was like touching a person carved from ice. 

“I guess they must be.” He had to count as he breathed. He tried to make his thoughts follow in a logical pattern. His sniper-focus seemed like the purview of another, better person. “And it’s not like they sent us with sleeping bags or- or blankets or anything.” 

“No. They didn’t send us with anything like that.” Once again, that flash of anger burst across Shuusuke’s face. This time, he made no effort to curtail it. “There’s nothing to start a fire. We just have each other.” 

The meaning of that last bit was obvious enough. They were both adults, and they’d both had courses in surviving in the wilderness (even though, in practice, they mostly fought in urban settings.) Eiri and Shuusuke both knew what it would take to survive.

The coats came off first. On a less demanding day, Eiri would hesitate at the idea of taking off most of his clothes in front of Shuusuke. In practice, though, taking off his shirt exposed more of his skin to the glacial air, and that preoccupied him more than anything else. He imagined he could hear his marrow freezing, and he snickered in a panicky sort of way. In response, Shuusuke shoved him under their pile of coats and clothes. Just grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down. 

It was nearly pitch black under their impromptu blanket, and for a few long moments Eiri was convinced this sort of thing must be false advice. It must be a prank perpetuated by sadistic survivalists. Shuusuke had also stripped down to his boxers, and holding onto him was about as comforting as clinging to a cold boulder. 

But then he noticed that it felt good to cover his head this way. 

_Yeah, most heat escapes from there, doesn’t it?_ He’d worn a hat today, but he hadn’t covered all of his face. 

His body came back to life, starting with the skull and traveling down. His ears stung, and blood began to move in his cheeks again. There was a pebble poking into his neck, and he wanted to flick it away. His nerves must be working again.

In fact, he knew this be true because, below his shoulders, every inch of his body was connected to Shuusuke. And, suddenly, he was completely aware of this.

Warmth and embarrassment warred for his attention. If anything, they appeared to fuel one another, until Eiri was very glad Shuusuke couldn’t see his face. Their hold on one another was no-nonsense, businesslike, but there was always something intimate about trying to save someone from death. Eiri and Shuusuke both had experience in this this. Had experience in saving each other. However, they also tended to go about this with a carefully placed bullet, not with their arms and torsos. The latter thing seemed like messiah territory. 

“This is okay?” He asked, noticing that his voice no longer shivered. He hoped his breath wasn’t too bad.

“It’s a necessity,” Shuusuke said, and that seemed to be the end of it. Eiri was trying to beat back an unexpected surge of disappointment when his companion spoke again. “Are _you_ okay?”

This close, Eiri could hear so many layers to that question. Shuusuke was concerned for Eiri’s health. He was concerned for Eiri’s emotional state. And there was a third thing in there, too. Eiri couldn’t identify it, but it reminded him of how Souma would sometimes smirk a little and insinuate… _something_ about Haku. Apparently Shuusuke had borrowed _that_ trait from Souma, too.

(Not that anyone knew for sure that he was sleeping with Haku, right? And they definitely didn’t know about the sappy things Eiri sometimes said in the heat of the moment. It’s not like they advertised it.)

“As you said, it’s a necessity.” Irritation often filled Eiri with a restless energy that demanded physical outlet. Here, he had nothing. He couldn’t even yell. Not when it might damage Shuusuke’s hearing. “And it’s working, right? Right?” 

“Yes, it’s working for me too,” Shuusuke said. “We need to remember to exercise periodically, though.” 

The idea of re-emerging into that frigid hellscape horrified Eiri. But Shuusuke was right about the need to keep their muscles active. He was right about most things, wasn’t he? 

The conversation stalled out after this, and Eiri fretted over what to do with his hands. The lizard part of Eiri’s brain wanted to explore the way Shuusuke’s torso curved from ribcage to hipbone. He wanted to see how he differed from Haku. 

(Oh, _Haku._ When he got back, his messiah was probably going to be very clingy, literally and figuratively. And for a moment Eiri craved that more than he wanted actual fire or a proper blanket.) 

And so Eiri made sure to hold very still. This presented its own problems; he worried it gave the impression that Eiri was completely disgusted in Shuusuke’s presence. Nothing could be further from the truth. He liked Shuusuke’s calm advice. He liked Shuusuke’s mature, restful silences. He just _liked_ Shuusuke in a way that was so uncomplicated that it confused the hell out of Eiri. 

“Souma would know what to do right now,” Shuusuke said, and was breath was like frost over Eiri’s cheek. “He’d come up with some game.” 

Eiri went ahead and smiled about that. It wasn’t like Shuusuke could see it.

Or maybe he was wrong; “Eiri, you like that Souma and I get along don’t you?” Shuusuke said this in an offhanded way, but he leaned against Eiri even more. He was very interested in getting an answer. 

“Ah, well.” Yes, there was something immeasurably satisfying about watching two people connect like puzzle pieces. It was a piece of serendipitous order in a chaotic world. “You guys have been through a lot, you know? You deserve to be happy.” 

Eiri realized his arm was stiff against Shuusuke. He gave his limbs permission to loosen up, to melt just a tad. As long as he didn’t move, that probably wasn’t too creepy. It was probably more comfortable for Shuusuke as well.

A hand tapped Eiri’s shoulder. And then it stayed there. “So do you. Am I correct in thinking you are doing well with Haku?” 

How _weird._ There was a palpable grin in Shuusuke’s voice. It implied that he also watched Eiri and Haku closely. Took delight in their good moments, worried about them when things were tough, and wished them nothing but the best. It implied he saw the same things in them that Eiri noticed in Shuusuke and Souma. 

Shuusuke caring so much was downright unfathomable. But it was there in his words, it was there in his actions, it was there in the friendly hand warming Eiri’s shoulder. 

The worst part of all was that he had no adequate answer for Shuusuke. In many ways, his partnership with Haku defied easy explanation or trite answer. His messiah inspired a wild kind of affection that was greater than the sum total of Eiri’s parts. There was also a dark, nameless current to their relationship that made him wonder. He hated coming back to piles of junk, sure. But when he thought of the word ‘home,’ he also pictured Haku’s messy bed. 

It was an unexpected addiction wedded to vertiginous and unconditional love. The presence of it made nearly made him burst with energy. The threat of losing it kept him up at night. 

_Damn it._

But now he was experiencing the epiphany that Shuusuke must be equally engrossed in Souma. Eiri’s arm unconsciously tightened around his current companion. 

If Shuusuke worried about things like this, then maybe there was no shame in growing so attached to Haku. If Shuusuke worried about things like this, then _no one_ was safe. 

But at least Eiri didn’t have to be alone. 

(He hadn’t been alone for a long time, actually. He was still growing accustomed to this fact.)

“Sorry Eiri. Was that too personal?” 

“Nah, not at all. I just hope we get back to them soon.” Oh, _great_. That was rude, wasn’t it? “Not that you’re bad company.”

Shuusuke actually laughed, and Eiri marveled at the sensation of it. This close to each other, the sound filled his ears, and he realized he’d never really heard Shuusuke do this.

“It’s fine. We’ll get each other through this.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The non-messiah friendships get to me, man.  
> 2\. Everyone knows about you and Haku, Eiri.


End file.
